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himself。 As soon as the virus bombs fell。
He opened another hatch； and something heavy threw itself at the door。 Steele leapt back by
reflex； and narrowly avoided a clawed hand that swiped at him through the aperture。 He discouraged
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it with a blow from the hatch’s locking bar； and its owner — another grey…furred mutant — howled
and recoiled。
The vile creature was still howling a minute later； and Steele cursed it under his breath。 He had
taken cover as best he could behind a rocky outcrop； and was wondering if he dared make a sprint
back to his cell； to hide in there。
He kept his good eye fixed on the steps； expecting Traitor Guardsmen to appear at their head。 He
cast around for a weapon with which to greet them if they did； but could see only rocks。 He
collected a few anyway； but was relieved not to have to use them。 The mutant’s howls subsided into
a quiet whimpering； and Steele assumed that the traitors were more than used to hearing sounds of
anguish from down here and so had not bothered to investigate。
He recognised the prisoner in the third cell at once。
He had seen him only once before； and then only in holographic effigy — but he had studied the
image； committed it to his enhanced memory。
Confessor Wollkenden looked thinner than he had in his hologram。 He was also dehydrated； his
skin stretched like parchment； but his bone structure was unaltered。 His prominent jaw was
unmistakeable。 The hologram； Steve saw now； had also been an old one； showing the confessor in
his prime。
To his surprise； Wollkenden was not chained； but instead lay curled on a filthy mattress； asleep；
wisps of white hair splayed about the oval crown of his head。 Steele fumbled with Furst’s keys；
almost dropping them as his hands trembled in anticipation。 He opened the cell door； stepped inside；
leaned over the prone form of its occupant and tried to shake him awake。 Wollkenden didn’t
respond at first； and for a moment Steele feared that he might already be dead； that he might have
come all this way for nothing。 Then； as he tapped the confessor lightly on his pale cheeks； he rolled
over onto his back； let out a soft groan； and his eyelids fluttered。
“Confessor Wollkenden。 Confessor。 It’s OK； I’m going to get you out of here。 Can you hear me？
Confessor？”
Steele glanced over his shoulder anxiously。 He didn’t know how much time he had。 Somebody
had to know that Furst had come down here — and； if not； they might yet find a set of keys missing
and come to investigate。
He took Wollkenden’s right arm； draped it around his shoulders； put his arm around the
confessor’s waist and hauled him to his feet。
“We need to find you some water；” he muttered。 “We need to find us both some water。”
He carried Wollkenden out into the cavern； walked him up and down。 He was gratified to feel
the confessor responding； finding his strength again — but worried； at the same time； that he
wouldn’t find enough。
“Who… who are you？” the confessor asked hoarsely。
“Colonel Stanislev Steele； sir； of the Valhallan 319th。”
“They… sent a regiment to rescue me？” Wollkenden seemed to find the idea amusing； although
Steele had no idea why。 Perhaps it was just relief； or a mild form of hunger…induced hysteria that
choked a spluttering laugh out of him。 “I told Mangellan。 I told him they wouldn’t leave Helmat
Wollkenden to rot in these dungeons； he is too important… too； too important。”
“The Ecclesiarchy is keen to get you back； confessor；” said Steele。 He thought it best not to
mention； for now； that he hadn’t exactly brought a whole regiment with him。
And then Wollkenden was struggling in his grip； trying to stand by himself although he
evidently wasn’t able。
“Where are they？” he babbled。 “Where are your men？ I wish to address them。 They need to
know what is expected of them； and they will listen to me。 I can inspire them； turn them into
heroes。”
“I know； confessor； but—”
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ed around； gripped the front of Steele’s ragged coat； and stared intensely into
his eyes。 “That’s the worst thing； you know； the hardest thing about imprisonment。 So much time to
think； and yet… Did they tell you about the Artemis System？ They say that； without my words； we
would have lost a score of worlds to the Chaos blight there。”
“I know you have had a distinguished career；” said Steele； “but we ought to—”
“What am I； then； without an audience？ What am I without my voice？”
“We’ll find you an audience；” Steele promised； “but not here。 Mangellan is—”
“How did he die？ Las…beam？ Grenade？ Did he live to see his Ice Palace fall？ I imagine that was
some sight； yes？ Did you break down the walls； or just melt through them？ Water running through
the streets； washing away the blood… Oh； I knew you’d come； I knew you’d kill Mangellan for
taking me； I told him so。”
Wollkenden’s voice was getting louder； more strident； and Steele couldn’t interrupt him。 He
pressed his hand over the confessor’s mouth； stifling the flow； and prayed that the Emperor would
forgive his discourtesy。
“With respect； sir；” he hissed； “Mangellan’s palace has not fallen； and if we make too much
noise his men will be down here in a second。 We have to get out of here； and we have to do it
quietly。 Do you understand？”
Wollkenden nodded frantically。 He looked almost afraid of his rescuer now； still the message
appeared to have got through to him。 Steele removed his hand； and guided the confessor to the steps。
It became apparent； as they tried to climb them； just how weak Wollkenden truly was。 He slipped on
the purple fungus； and would have fallen on his face had Steele not caught him。 With each
subsequent step they took； he threatened to overbalance the pair of them； send them over the side。
Somehow； though； they made it to the top。 Steele lowered his charge into a sitting position；
cautioned him to be silent and still。 He put out his lamp； flattened himself beside the doorway
through which he had been dragged almost four hours before； and peered out into the Ice Palace’s
grand hallway。
A part of him had hoped to find the hall empty； its sentries off…duty for the night。 He had known；
however； that this was unlikely。 Almost immediately； he heard the footsteps of a pair of Traitor
Guardsmen； and he shrank back into the shadows。 The traitors had hardly gone by when another pair
approached from the opposite direction。
Mangellan had set regular patrols。 Funny； thought Steele； how men like that preached Chaos and
yet were so quick to dispense orders。 That said； there was no point in his trying to time the traitors；
to deduce when there might be a gap between their patrols — they would hardly be so disciplined。
There was no hope of crossing the hallway unseen； and the portcullis would be guarded anyway。
But Steele remembered the ice bridges spanning the expanses between the palace’s upper levels and
the hive streets around them。 And closing his eyes； concentrating； he also remembered something
else； something to which he had paid scant attention as he had passed it earlier。 He remembered a
door； standing half…open — and behind that door； the base of a winding staircase。
He would have to rely on his enhanced ear to alert him to approaching patrols — and on the
Emperor’s grace； to ensure that the guards at the entrance wouldn’t turn and see him and
Wollkenden while they were exposed。 But Steele thought that they could reach that door。 And from
there…
The palace was an enormous building。 There had to be places in which they could hide。 And
maybe they could find weapons； and robes to disguise themselves。 Maybe they could find an
unguarded bridge。 Anything was possible… if they could just reach that door。
Steele crouched beside Wollkenden； told him what he had planned； asked him if he felt up to it。
Wollkenden stared through him； and he said； “It looks majestic out there； doesn’t it？ All that ice… It
reminds me of the victory celebrations on Artemis Major； of the crystal statues they erected in
Imperial Square。”
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Steele explained the plan again； patiently。 Then he helped Wollkenden up to the doorway and
waited。
They crept out behind the next two…man patrol； Steele praying that neither of the traitors would
look over their shoulders。 He could already hear the next pair； tramping towards them。 They had…
his processors quickly worked out the figure… eleven seconds before they came into view around
the grand staircase。 He tried to pick up the pace； but Wollkenden chose that moment to apparently
lose all strength in his legs。 He let out a grunt as Steele caught him； and the colonel felt his heart
freeze； expecting the sound to reveal them。
Five seconds… and the door； that inviting door； was still an unattainable four metres away。
Wollkenden’s chin sagged onto his chest。 He was losing consciousness； but they had come too
far to turn back now。 Steele bundled the confessor’s limp body into his arms； almost staggered by
the weight。 He would have to run； have to sacrifice silence for speed。
He had made it all of three paces when Wollkenden began to struggle violently。 “No！” he yelled。
“No； you won’t take me through that door； you won’t put me in chains again！”
Steele tried to h